


Many Roads, One Journey

by FoxRafer



Series: Many Roads [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-15
Updated: 2009-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 9,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the <a href="http://seans_50.livejournal.com/"><b>seans_50</b></a> challenge; 'sheep' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found <a href="http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html"><b>here</b></a>.</p><p>Here's the <a href="http://www.travelblog.org/Photos/236325.html"><b>inspiration photo</b></a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Sheep

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'sheep' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://www.travelblog.org/Photos/236325.html).

They had seen similar scenes years ago, during quick escapes from location shoots or road trips on cherished days off. But the day was warm and the sky clear and there was nowhere they needed to be but with each other. Viggo pulled off the road and they walked up to the fence, swung their legs over and sat on the top rail. The wind was mild, barely ruffling their hair as they quietly watched the herding dog keep his flock in control.

It had always been easy to slide into the intimacy of the mundane, to drop all pretenses and enjoy the natural communion that had flown between them almost from their first meeting. The conversation drifted through random thoughts and memories as they filled their lungs with the clean country air. Time seemed to slow as they ambled their way around recollection and reminders, light discussion about the morning headlines, quiet laughter at a shared joke.

Finally Sean stretched, his back protesting the sudden movement with a loud crack. He slid off the fence, instantly missing the warm press of Viggo's knee against his own, and carefully stepped a little closer before kneeling down to take a picture. Viggo was reaching for him as he turned back and Sean stepped close, welcoming the strong hand that squeezed the back of his neck, returning the wide smile that graced his partner's face. One more shared moment in a decade of moments and they were climbing over the fence again, heading back to the car and all the new memories that awaited them.


	2. Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'pie' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html). The most important thing to know is this is a series of vignettes with no plot or conflict or point other than two incredible men who are deeply in love taking an extended break from the craziness of their lives to take a road trip together in the country where it all began.
> 
> Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v255/77/93/677402535/n677402535_903369_9007.jpg).

It wasn't really that funny. On another day it would have gone practically unnoticed, an interesting sight along the road. With someone else from Sean's hometown it would have merely been a funny coincidence, a find worthy of a smile, a small chuckle, maybe a quick picture to show friends back home.

But Sean and Viggo had always laughed a lot. Billy and Dom seemed almost grave and solemn in comparison. It was as if they shared a lifetime of inside jokes before their first hello. And no one could guess what might set them off. Soon the jovial background noise from the pair was both expected and welcomed and sorely missed when Sean returned to England.

Driving into Sheffield did nothing more than elicit two amused grunts, but as soon as they saw the Sheffield Pie Shop they were reduced to giggles. One illegal u-turn and an order placed through barely contained laughter, and they were sitting on a bench outside with two hot meat pies. It was a particularly humid day and the sun was high in the sky and soon both were slightly flushed from the heat. They ate in silence enjoying their surroundings, lips curling into hungry smiles as they watched each other lick trails of juice that continually ran down their fingers.


	3. Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'kiss' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html). The most important thing to know is this is a series of vignettes with no plot or conflict or point other than two incredible men who are deeply in love taking an extended break from the craziness of their lives to take a road trip together in the country where it all began.
> 
> Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://www.worldisround.com/articles/4096/photo9.html).

Lost in a forest years ago they finally stopped to wait out the moonless night. Sightless and surrounded by nameless sounds, their senses on the brink of alarm, it turned out to be the perfect time and place to talk about their hopes, their wants, their future. As the sun began to filter through the thick canopy of leaves, they not only found their way out but also found their way home.

It took longer to find the spot again, but searching by instinct rather than actual memory can take more time. What seemed at first unnerving many years ago was now a private altar. Birds called overhead, creatures rustled past and the air was filled with a cool, rich smell of damp bark and sod. The trees enveloped them, cocooned them beneath their sweeping branches. They stood bodies close yet spirits closer; the steady press of nose and forehead as they shared breath, shared life.


	4. Scent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'scent' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html). The most important thing to know is this is a series of vignettes with no plot or conflict or point other than two incredible men who are deeply in love taking an extended break from the craziness of their lives to take a road trip together in the country where it all began.
> 
> Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/scottdavies/3235359063/) and [**more information**](http://www.rdc.govt.nz/Our+Services/Parks+and+Recreation/Parks+and+Reserves/Kuirau+Park.htm) about the park.

They walked slowly through Kuirau Park, finding anonymity among the other tourists. Neither had visited this area before and the steaming and bubbling pools of mud fascinated them. The smell of sulphur was pervasive but tolerable as they stopped to take another picture.

Sean frowned as he watched Viggo frame the shot. Despite the leisurely pace of the day, Viggo seemed tense and unnaturally quiet. Sean wished they could be alone right now, but there would be time to talk later; time to slowly unravel whatever thoughts were troubling Viggo's mind. This trip gave them that freedom, gave them months of quiet moments that had been sacrificed over the years. He laid a steadying hand on Viggo's back and waited for his lover to finish.


	5. Scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'scar' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html). The most important thing to know is this is a series of vignettes with no plot or conflict or point other than two incredible men who are deeply in love taking an extended break from the craziness of their lives to take a road trip together in the country where it all began.
> 
> Being very loose with this one. I'm using the "a protruding isolated rock" definition and being very generous with the "isolated" part. The rocks in the water aren't touching and if you squint you may not see the others. :-) The truth of the matter is I first found a picture of just one of the rocks, got sold on the place before I acknowledged in my head that I'd moved away from the definition.
> 
> There are a few different pictures I want to show you for this, different angles so you get a better idea of the place.  
> [ **Pic One**](http://www.new-zealand-pictures.co.nz/nugget-point-lighthouse-picture-1642-pictures.htm), [**Pic Two**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/carlotancredi/2514674418/), [**Pic Three**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Nugget_point_lighthouse_otago_coast.jpg), [**Pic Four**](http://www.maxwaugh.com/nz04/nugget.html)

Viggo regretted not bringing more film. The digital was fine but the moment they arrived he knew he wanted more of what the 35 mil could capture of Sean in this environment.

Nugget Point spoke to Sean. The unique structure of the old lighthouse, the beauty of the steep headland, the rock formation off the coast; even the seals in the pools below seemed to draw Sean in. His camera long abandoned, he stood looking out at the ocean reminding Viggo of an old mariner surveying the seas.

The last time he had seen Sean so attuned to his surroundings was in an old church somewhere in the English countryside. He had taken more pictures of Sean admiring the architecture and stonework, the simplicity of the grounds, than he had of the church. This cape and that country parish were completely different, yet both settled around Sean like a favorite old sweater, warm and comfortable.

Viggo watched as another blazing smile transformed Sean's face, his stance straight and strong as he braced against another gust of wind. He'd build a house here if he could, give Sean his own corner of this coastline, to always see this peaceful stillness.


	6. Glare / Piano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'glare' and 'piano' prompts. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html). The most important thing to know is this is a series of vignettes with no plot or conflict or point other than two incredible men who are deeply in love taking an extended break from the craziness of their lives to take a road trip together in the country where it all began.
> 
> Glare: Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/35064403@N00/2153232595) and [**more information**](http://www.sculpture.org.nz/engine/SID/10007.htm) about the sculptures.
> 
> Piano: I had [**a picture**](http://collection.aucklandartgallery.govt.nz/collection/results.do%3Bjsessionid=747A277C1CCD88ED549540AA8ADF130D?view=detail&db=object&id=8864) planned for this prompt but then I wanted to pair this with 'glare' so that idea had to be put aside. Technically there is no inspiration picture for this but here are some great pianos.  
> [ **Piano One**](http://gfx.adzooks.co.uk/upl/0/8B714F54F70B7393F0E1932FE46FE44D.jpg), [**Piano Two**](http://www.cherokeevanlines.com/images/upright.jpg), [**Piano Three**](http://uucboulder.org/images/upright_piano.jpg)

**Glare**

Now that he was here he had no desire to go inside. Viggo took a few pictures of the wire sculptures outside the museum, remotely appreciated the detail and technique, then sat down and watched the people as they passed.

Somehow he and Sean had been able to compromise easily during this trip. For the most part there was no planned itinerary, no schedule to keep, so random detours for unlikely whims were easy to make. Even so, neither fancied the idea of spending every waking moment together. They valued solitude, needed time alone with only their thoughts as company. So during the last few months they had taken separate side trips; spent a few hours, days, even weeks apart.

But today was different. Today was the result of tension and frustration, not actually an argument but very close. So Viggo was here and Sean wasn't and he couldn't help hoping Sean was brooding too.

Tonight they'd meet at the hotel and they'd talk, maybe they'd plan on spending tomorrow apart as well. And eventually they'd manage to work through this, be more aware of when they needed their own space before it boiled over into acrimony. Of this he was certain. Viggo stood with a sigh and walked into the museum.

 **Piano**

Sean sat at the piano, letting his hands play whatever music came to them. More focused than he had been all day, his thoughts were still scattered, miles away with the man he had fought with that morning. Not quite a fight, he corrected himself, but it created a rift all the same.

The plan had been to go to the botanical gardens. But as he let a second cable car leave the station with barely a moment's recognition, he wandered back to the hotel, found himself behind the wheel of their rental driving aimlessly. Half an hour had passed before he really knew what he was doing. He said a silent word of thanks that he hadn't dreamed his way into a wall. There was a piano store at the corner and he pulled over; he needed the easy feel of the keys to order his mind.

He was always distracted after a sudden confrontation with Viggo, when his mood seemed to unexpectedly sour over something Viggo had said or done. But there was always a reason and he could rarely rest easy until he'd figured it out. And then they would talk, and despite being two quiet and stubborn men they were good at resolving things, at finding their way back to understanding and common ground. Over the years they'd gotten better at giving themselves the time to get there.

His playing became more deliberate as his concentration slowly returned. He'd drive back in a few minutes, wait for Viggo in their room.


	7. Blades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'blades' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> The choices seemed to be wind power, rowing, farming equipment or artifacts. The artifacts thing could have been interesting, I found a bizarre picture of some [**farming machine blades**](http://files.smarttrader.net.au/webfiles/imw/7/23/015210723.jpg) that look like they're poised to star in the next Stephen King classic, and I had no ideas around wind power (except a passing thought about SimCity). In the end rowing held more appeal.
> 
> Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/panthaboy/2903462179/) and [**more information**](http://www.newplymouthnz.com/VisitingNewPlymouth/Attractions/PukekuraPark.htm) about the park.

The lake was calm and quiet with few boats in the water. Sean and Viggo had long stopped rowing, oars secured as they settled in the bottom of the boat, backs against one seat, legs draped and tangled together over the other.

They floated through conversation as Sean worked on the crossword. Thirteen down started a mini-competition to see who could name the most capital cities. Twenty-eight across reminded them to order flowers for Cate's opening night. They puzzled over the clue for five down before deciding it was badly constructed.

Most of the day's paper lay between them, Viggo's book sitting on top to keep them from blowing away. He absently read the sports section, found his attention drawn more to the tea house as they slowly drifted past, the ducks that were just taking flight.


	8. Theatre / Couch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'theatre' and 'couch' prompts. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Theatre: Here's the [**first picture**](http://www.hickerphoto.com/old-movie-theater-mural-opunake-16192-pictures.htm) I found. It turns out there's a huge mural on the side of this theater ([ **Long shot**](http://www.hickerphoto.com/reflections-of-opunake-wall-murals-16203-pictures.htm), [**closer shot**](http://www.new-zealand-pictures.co.nz/opunake-taranaki-wall-murals-north-island-new-zealand-844-pictures.htm), [**set of pics of different parts**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/98712881@N00/tags/opunaketheatre/)). Even better, there are murals all over this town ([ **Pic One**](http://www.hickerphoto.com/maori-people-wall-mural-opunake-16201-pictures.htm), [**Pic Two**](http://www.hickerphoto.com/photo-of-wall-murals-opunake-16202-pictures.htm), [**Pic Three**](http://www.hickerphoto.com/opunake-wall-mural-nz-16204-pictures.htm); [**Pic Four**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/fraserpettigrew/396726991/)).
> 
> Couch: There's no real inspiration picture. But the house I decided they'd rent has a series of pictures of the interior and one of them (the fifth one in I think) has a shot of a sofa. So consider this [**set of pics**](http://www.realestate.co.nz/1026400/images) the inspiration.

**Theatre**

As soon as he saw the theatre Sean knew this would be an extended stay. For weeks he had felt the tension rising in Viggo. Talking hadn't worked and pushing only made him more irritable, so Sean watched, tried to be patient. He wasn't sure when it became clear to him, but he was confident he was right. Viggo needed to express something, and he lacked the means and the medium to do so.

As the large mural on the side of the building came into view, Sean stopped the car, waited, carefully prodded until Viggo finally gave voice to what he craved. It took almost a day and a half to get everything in place. A visit with a realtor to find a furnished house for a temporary lease, several runs to stores both in and out of town for art supplies, then fully stocking the fridge.

While Viggo painted Sean spent his days exploring the town. He started with the theatre, taking pictures of its detailed mural and the refurbished interior, learning its history. Soon discovered there were murals everywhere, and made note of those he'd share with Viggo later. Went down to the beach and watched the surfers, the families staying at the holiday park. Strolled through the seaside cemetery, made rubbings of some of the stones.

But each evening he was at the house, fixing dinner and making Viggo clean his plate. Dragging him down to the pub for a pint and some local color. Holding him while he slept, safekeeping his dreams.

 **Couch**

Sean's breathing was deep and even, steady, rhythmic. Face turned toward the back cushions, a hand lying slack at his waist, slowly slipping with each rise and fall of breath. His face was unshaven, and he seemed weary, as if even in sleep he wasn't finding rest.

Viggo quietly watched, wondered if he'd slept at all during the night. His own sleep had been fitful and Sean had always been there when he woke, talking to him and holding him tighter, until he drifted back to sleep.

He sat on the floor beside the couch and rested his head against Sean's shoulder. They'd need to wait for the canvas to fully dry before shipping it back home. Then Viggo would enjoy Sean playing tour guide, spend another few days seeing the town together. And each night he'd watch over Sean's sleep, thank him for the time and the stillness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a total aside: I could live with these two in this town and house forever. Don't be surprised if sometime in the future I bug you with a whole set of ficlets of just this part of their trip. I fell in love with this town the more I learned about it and I could stay here in my mind for a long time.


	9. Sharp(e)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'sharp(e)' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://www.arthurgrosset.com/ozbirds/photos/calacu19023.jpg) and some information on the birds that can be seen at the [**Miranda Shorebird Centre**](http://www.miranda-shorebird.org.nz/shorebirds.html).

Other than some half-baked joke about Sharpe, Viggo really couldn't explain why he was so fascinated with the sharp-tailed sandpiper and Sean gave up on trying to understand. It was a beautiful day, the sky bursting with clouds and the songs of shorebirds. They had arrived at the height of migration and there was plenty to see even if they didn't move all day. And if they wanted to it would be easy to stay another night, come back in the morning.

It had taken a while for Sean to get used to not having to rush, to not having to fit in a week's worth of enjoyment into just a few hours. Now he didn't want to go back to the never-ending pace they had left behind. Maybe they didn't have to. They'd earned the freedom to work when they wanted, be still when they wanted. Maybe it was time for more than just coordinating schedules and travel plans.

So Sean let Viggo concentrate on the sharp-tailed sandpiper, let him play with his lenses and his shutter speeds. For once time was on their side. And that was worth savoring.


	10. Helicopter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'helicopter' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://www.helistar.co.nz/images/covershot2.jpg) and some information on the [**tour**](http://www.helistar.co.nz/helicopter-flights/heritage-trail) I decided they'd take as well as a [**map**](http://www.helistar.co.nz/images/map_flights_lg.gif) that shows the route.
> 
> Finally, here are pictures of the areas mentioned on the tour site that are part of the heritage trail.
> 
> Huka Falls: [**one**](http://davidwallphoto.com/images/%7BFC1E6243-BD85-4D34-A7BB-F94A9EAD6745%7D.jpg), [**two**](http://www.hickerphoto.com/data/media/152/blue-waterfall_16880.jpg)  
>  Craters of the Moon: [**one**](http://www.broadeningthemind.com/Pictures%20-%20Taupo/Craters%20of%20the%20moon.jpg), [**two**](http://images.travelpod.com/users/rachel_john/roundtheworld.1138838160.02_craters_of_the_moon.jpg)  
>  Maori Rock Carvings: [**one**](http://i157.photobucket.com/albums/t68/FoxRafer/Sean%2050/MaoriRockCarvings2.jpg), [**two**](http://i157.photobucket.com/albums/t68/FoxRafer/Sean%2050/MaoriRockCarvings1.jpg)  
>  Mount Tauhara: [**one**](http://www.mindat.org/photo-128136.html), [**two**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/shenidaweave/226803316/)  
>  Lake Rotokawa: the first picture of Mount Tauhara shows the lake and here's [**another shot**](http://www.ew.govt.nz/PageFiles/747/rotokawa1.jpg)

Viggo knew he had crossed the line from good-natured ribbing to annoying a few minutes ago and was quietly impressed that Sean hadn't punched him yet. Although Sean liked to say he'd gotten over his fear of flying, Viggo knew "got used to" was more accurate. And a helicopter wasn't a plane.

Sean stood looking out at the line of trees that surrounded them, jaw set so tight Viggo was worried he'd crack his teeth. A helicopter tour was the one thing Sean promised he'd do with Viggo and he wasn't backing out. To be kind Viggo had chosen one of medium length, 45 minutes instead of the full two hours. But he still hadn't been able to stop himself from teasing. Not until he slung his arm across Sean's shoulders and he jumped, only slightly, barely noticeable, but it made Viggo wince.

He stopped badgering then and simply stood there, letting Sean focus on whatever he needed to prepare himself for the ride. And if Sean changed his mind, they'd do something else, drive to the different locations instead and see them from the ground. Either way he'd thank Sean properly tonight, ease the tension away and help him unwind.


	11. Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'smoke' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Here's the [**inspiration**](http://www.nzhistory.net.nz/media/photo/blue-smoke) and some [**more information**](http://folksong.org.nz/bluesmoke/index.html) about the song. Under the sheet music is a midi player so you can hear it as well.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to figure out where they had heard the tune Sean had been humming for half an hour. Neither knew why they recognized a song they had never heard before, briefly flirted with the idea that they had just experienced some shared acid flashback. Together they pieced the whole melody together, wondered if they could hear specific instruments, retraced their steps and found themselves in front of the carnival merry-go-round. Wrong tune but the right tones, and they had spent a while at the shooting gallery just across the way.

They waited and watched the children, faces filled with joy, concentration, and a few with that distinctive look of a mind taking its child on a run through the fields on the back of a strong black stallion. Their parents waited and waved from the grass, some engaged, others bored, a few clearly having a very bad day. And then the music changed and it was the song and their joint shout received a few disapproving looks and many comical double takes of recognition.

Viggo asked the carousel operator if he knew the name of the song. Sean asked the man walking by on stilts. They began making the rounds through the amusements, by now too curious and invested in the search to just let it go. Finally they approached the piano player at the stage. He was an older man, perhaps twenty years their senior, with an open face and kind eyes. On hearing the tune, he immediately began to play it for them, quietly singing along in a clear but aged voice. A song of soldiers going to war and leaving their sweethearts behind being played as a carousel song.

They sat for a long time talking to the man, questions about the song quickly giving way to memories of New Zealand in the 40s, stories from his life, his memories of World War II. When the next show was about to start, they thanked him for his time and headed back toward the car park, hoping they could find a copy of that record or the sheet music at the very least before they flew home.


	12. Habit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'habit' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> We're doing word associations again. Nuns wear habits; nuns live in convents. Here's the [**inspiration photo**](http://www.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01238/convent-zealand1_1238597c.jpg) and some [**more information**](http://www.convent.co.nz/en/) about the convent. If you have time, you really must go to the suites page and look at the pictures of the rooms. Unbelievable.

So far during this trip their accommodations ranged from sleeping bags in nylon tents, bunk beds in trampers huts, and a variety of hotels, motels and rentals. But even though they'd stayed in some very comfortable places, Sean was insistent that it was time for more than the basic mod cons.

Old St. Mary's Convent was far from the haphazard, catch a room where you can, sleeping arrangements that dominated this trip. Viggo complimented Sean on his infinite wisdom in booking the "honeymoon" suite. It was like living in a well-appointed apartment without the hassle of having to maintain it. Beautiful chapel windows, intricately shaped rooms, a luxurious bath that fit them perfectly and a bed they were going to miss for many reasons when it was time to leave.

Today Viggo was fishing while Sean spent the morning bird watching at Queen Charlotte Sound. In the afternoon they'd meet at a local festival, enjoy some music and a few beers. This area provided a kind of privacy they weren't expecting but were grateful for, the surroundings peaceful and intimate. Good for the soul, they thought. Good for the soul.


	13. Shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'shower' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> There are a few pictures for this, [**the first one I found**](http://www.davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?tx=&ts=&c=&t=61&Lids=&Gids=&p=17&n=11017&phrase=) and four more I hunted down after: [**One**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?t=16&n=11015), [**Two**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?g=54&n=11012), [**Three**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?g=54&n=11018), [**Four**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/paulkelly/tags/millertonincline/). And here's some [**information**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Millerton,_New_Zealand) about Millerton.

The tracks and coal trolleys had become part of the landscape, grasses and ferns reclaiming the steel. The contrast between the lush vegetation and the rusted equipment was striking but sombre. The old mine was both overgrown and bleak and Sean felt the need to keep making jokes, to keep the conversation light. He worried for Viggo in this town, in this place. It attracted the artist in him but was not good for the man. It was too cold, too stark. The shower block made Sean think of concentration camps, hard and barren. And the incline's tunnel was decayed and claustrophobic, the air filled with a sense of foreboding, even death.

They wouldn't stay anywhere near Millerton tonight. It was practically a ghost town, nearly as abandoned as this mine. He watched Viggo more than what remained of the desolate infrastructure, decided on a time when he'd give some excuse so they could leave. Then Sean would just keep driving, would stay up all night if he had to, until this curtain of dread lifted and he could feel Viggo breathe freely again.


	14. Ice / Dirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'ice' and 'dirty' prompts. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Here's the inspiration for [**ice**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/35659605@N03/3299833355/) and the picture for [**dirty**](http://www.photographersdirect.com/cfw/stockphoto.asp?imageid=550384&sourceid=11917). And here's some information about [**Franz Josef Glacier**](http://www.franzjosefglacier.com/) and [**Fox Glacier**](http://www.foxguides.co.nz/default.asp).

The only thing to do was laugh. It was either laugh or moan about their age so they chose the former. Call it pride, determination or incredible acting skills, but somehow they'd managed to get back to the hotel keeping up the "we're only a little tired" charade. But once in their room it took them ten minutes to stop leaning on the door.

Two days climbing up, around and through icebergs, of pretending their 50-year-old bodies were still as limber and agile as they used to be. At the end of yesterday's hike on Franz Joseph Glacier they still felt relatively fine. They'd downloaded some pictures and sent them to friends, marveled again at the ice caves and the sultry blue coloring of the ice. A hot shower and a couple of massages and they were okay.

But this morning their joints were stiff and they felt small twinges in their muscles. They should have listened to their bodies and cancelled today's climb. Instead they practically goaded each other into leaving. That made them laugh even harder, too stubborn for their own good and not yet willing to admit they weren't thirty anymore.

They'd soaked as much of the aches and pains they could out of their limbs and now were face down on the bed, barely enough energy to prop up their heads to scroll through the day's pictures. It had been a surprise to see how dirty some of the ice looked on Fox Glacier, the sediment somehow thicker than anything they saw the day before. But it was still awe-inspiring and they were glad they had experienced ice climbing at least once in their lives.

Sean let the camera slip out of his hand, mumbled something about being hungry. Viggo made a brave attempt to turn off the bedside light but decided it would just have to stay on. If they could still walk in the morning they'd worry about eating and making up for the waste of electricity. For now they talked and joked and tried not to move.


	15. Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'voice' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Almost everything that came up were pictures of New Zealand storytellers. So here's an article about a performance by a [**well-known storyteller**](http://www.mayaproductions.co.uk/Purakau.html) and because I needed a place for them to be (and a picture) [**Lower Hutt**](http://i157.photobucket.com/albums/t68/FoxRafer/Sean%2050/Voice.jpg) is where one group of performers is based.

They'd arrived late, barely got in the door before the lights dimmed and a Maori call could be heard offstage. Everyone in the audience was riveted before the storyteller even walked on stage.

Viggo and Sean were amazed at the sheer physicality of the performance and impressed by how he involved the audience. They were taught and repeated the mantra

 __

Titiro, Whakarongo ... Korero  
look, listen ... speak

as he recounted the importance of storytelling for every culture, how the loss of our narratives hurts each new generation.

As the final story for the evening was being performed, Viggo felt Sean tense and shift, almost fidgeting in his seat. He looked over and could see the emotion playing across Sean's face, saw him trying to push it down and failing. Whether it was the tale, the intonation of his voice, or something else that sparked a memory or feeling, Viggo wasn't sure and at the moment didn't care. He reached out and placed his hand over Sean's, heard a momentary hitch in his breathing. Sean carded their fingers together, held tight until the audience stood to applaud.


	16. Wet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'wet' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> The inspiration [**picture**](http://graphics8.nytimes.com/packages/images/photo/2009/01/18/0118-zealand/26218717.JPG) is part of a [**slideshow**](http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2009/01/18/travel/0118-zealand_index.html) about the Milford Track. And here are a few more pictures along the [**Mackinnon Pass**](http://www.alangrinberg.com/photos/NewZealand/SouthPage04/index3.html) (the last one on this page is a gorgeous shot of a kea in flight).

It was their third day on the Milford Track and their packs were noticeably lighter. For the first time since they set out from Te Anu the rain had stopped, the sky nearly free of clouds. A kea swept past, flew off toward the rocky cliffs ahead.

They'd stopped for lunch along the Mackinnon Pass next to an expansive mountain lake, enjoying the solitude and the fresh smell of alpine grasses and clean air. This was why they chose to do the hike without a guide, keeping their own pace and their own company.

It took no more than a mad smile and the promise of tanned skin to convince Sean to take a swim. The water was cold and pristine and they laughed like schoolboys, exhilarated and unrestrained.


	17. Arse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'arse' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Butt is another word for arse so I found dolphins [**head butting**](http://www.eurekalert.org/multimedia/pub/web/3669_web.jpg) (and [**the article**](https://richarddawkins.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=11962) where it says they're butting heads *g*). One more picture just because [**dolphins**](http://img6.travelblog.org/Photos/24856/248386/f/2029308-Bottlenose-Dolphins-Doubtful-Sound-Fiordland-National-Park-New-Zealand-0.jpg) are cute, and a [**couple**](http://qviews.net/Doubtful-Sound1.jpg) of [**pictures**](http://www.doubtfulsound.com/sites/teanau.info/images/milfordcruise-034.jpg) of Doubtful Sound. (To which I say once again, is there any part of this country that isn't drop dead gorgeous?)

Sean the scholar liked to pretend he wasn't that prominent a fixture in their lives. But while he didn't make a daily appearance, Viggo knew he was always standing in the wings giving cues. To Viggo, Sean's extremes made his sex appeal jump off the charts. Whether it was the full-blown alpha male who practically growled instead of speaking or the bookish intellectual who reveled in sharing newly acquired knowledge, both made Viggo's temperature rise.

So when he caught Sean reading an article about male dolphin behavior in this area, Viggo couldn't help but give scholarly Sean a little nudge. A few phone calls later and they were invited for a ride out onto the sound with one of the researchers. Sometimes taking advantage of celebrity perks wasn't such a bad thing, he thought.

It was a cloudy, misty day, bathing the area in an atmospheric wash. The boat cut a slow and quiet course through the water as they listened to the scientist discuss his findings. And Sean was fascinated. And Viggo was fascinated with Sean, even more so than the remarkable beauty of Doubtful Sound or the dolphins themselves. Two in particular seemed very interested in the group, and Sean kept leaning far out over the side of the boat, eager to see as much as he could. He asked questions about the complexity of the relationships, on how the males fought for dominance, laughed when the researcher described two dolphins butting heads. Sean glanced at Viggo, almost daring him to demonstrate this trait in the human male; Viggo only smiled.


	18. Grumpy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'grumpy' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> This was the [**picture**](http://www.familyparks.com.au/parkpics/grumpy1.jpg) I found and then I discovered why it came up from a search for [**grumpy**](http://christchurch2mountcook.co.nz/).

The moment Viggo saw the sign for Grumpy's Holiday Park, he nearly gave them whiplash as he abruptly swung the car through the entrance. He delighted at the idea of telling everyone they stayed at a place called Grumpy's. But an hour later, Viggo's mood began to match the park's name. Sulky might have been a better description. He didn't want to see any of the local sights, found fault with everything there, and became angry when Sean suggested they pack up and move on.

So Sean grabbed the car keys, dialed Henry's number and shoved the phone into Viggo's hand. For the next few hours he found random things to occupy his time. He hunted down a couple of filming locations he had never seen, purchased a [**glass mosaic**](http://www.belangertaylorartglass.co.nz/gallery/epiphany.shtml) for Lorna's graduation, wandered around the countryside, even stopped at the local library to check his e-mail before finally driving back to their campsite.

Viggo had caught and fixed dinner and greeted Sean with an apology and a strong embrace. They loaded two plates and grabbed a small cooler of beer, zipped themselves into their tent to share a quiet meal and a private reconciliation.


	19. Fifty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'fifty' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Fifty is the atomic number of tin, so we have the [**Tin Range**](http://www.teara.govt.nz/TheBush/NativePlantsAndFungi/AlpinePlants/2/ENZ-Resources/Standard/3/en); here's a second [**inspiration**](http://picaweek.blogspot.com/2006/05/kiwi-on-tin-range-stewart-island-new.html) pic.

The hike to the top of the Tin Range had not been easy, but the views were spectacular. Looking out along rolling hills of alpine grasses speckled with flowers, mountain vistas against the expanse of open water, left them breathless from more than just the climb. Viggo felt the urge to both shout at the sky and be deathly quiet, settled for silence as Sean propped himself against his back, elbows on shoulders.

They noticed the kiwi at the same time, almost frightened it away in their rush to get cameras out and focused. Neither had ever had a chance to photograph the bird and it was the first time they'd seen one since they started this trip. Images caught, they sat between snow tussocks, shared random thoughts in hushed voices as they watched the kiwi pick its way across the hill.


	20. Chain / Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'chain' and 'birthday' prompts. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> There are a couple of inspiration pics ([ **one**](http://danny.oz.au/travel/new-zealand/p/1337-anchor.jpg), [**two**](http://davidwallphoto.com/images/%7BBE4E3F32-46D0-4077-9E29-291F0BA20DF7%7D.JPG)) and two links with [**information**](http://www.stewartisland.co.nz/Attractions/Rakiura_track.htm) about the [**walk**](http://tramper.co.nz/?51).
> 
> From what I could find, the chain is a symbol for Maori mythology about the island. The original Maori name, Te Punga o Te Waka a Maui, translates to The Anchor Stone of Maui's Canoe. Stewart Island is the anchor stone that held Maui's canoe (the South Island) as he caught and raised the great fish (the North Island).

They were like most visitors to the island they supposed, stopping to photograph the chain sculpture, think about the associated Maori myth. But it was also midday and stomachs were beginning to rumble. They'd just emerged back onto the coast from a forested portion of the track and the warmth from the sun was welcome and inviting.

A few yards up the beach they found a flat grassy area somewhat secluded from the path. They ate mostly in silence, not a full lunch, just an energy bar and some water. The wind had died down since they set out that morning and the bay was calm, gentle rippling waves creating white accents against stunningly vibrant blue.

Sean reached into his pack and pulled out a small wrapped package. They'd exchanged gifts before leaving for New Zealand, and this trip was the biggest gift of all. But both wanted to have some kind of formal celebration, a recognition of their years of life and their years together. Viggo had suggested Stewart Island and now, halfway through the walk and their stay in this sanctuary, it seemed like the right time.

Viggo unwrapped a [**pewter hip flask**](http://www.50wishes.com/50th-birthday-gift-029.asp#), already filled with his favorite whiskey. Sean opened a [**black leather photo album**](http://www.50wishes.com/50th-birthday-gift-021.asp#), with page after page of a lifetime of memories. A toast and a lingering kiss, and bags were packed and slung over shoulders, ready for the next leg of the trek.


	21. Rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'rough' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> There are [**three**](http://www.travelagentcentral.com/files/nodes/9604/roughandtumblelodge.jpg) [**inspiration**](http://www.roughandtumble.co.nz/) [**links**](http://www.tailor-made.co.uk/ntsgr/CMS/gen/cache/RoughAndTumble-ResizeW482.jpg) for this. Mostly this was inspired by these quotes from a review and the lodge website:
> 
>  _"... our famous Pure Bliss Bush Bath for two ... perched right over the river; a fabulous way to unwind and watch the stars at the end of the day."  
>  "... our two-person bush bath is unforgettable ... very romantic and private ..."_

Enveloped in hot, steaming water; stars like radiant jewels above their heads. Conscious only of each other and simple pleasure, the rise and fall of synchronous breath.

Sean relaxed further into firm and loving arms, feeling Viggo's desire, his own growing. A choked moan at the scrape of teeth against skin, the languid roaming of safe and adoring hands. The rest of the world temporarily gone; only this place, only these two.

Anticipation mixed with eternal passion and the unwavering faith of a love everlasting. Reverent, devoted, thankful. A decadent end to a lazy day, full of promise and possibility.


	22. Pub / Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'pub' and 'smile' prompts. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> I had quite a lot of choices searching for pub and New Zealand. I settled on this [**picture**](http://lh4.ggpht.com/_FZfGBXhFgFQ/SW6qvbRURUI/AAAAAAAACaw/1dmzgeGtEdE/008+The+Brown+Pub.JPG) of [**The Brown Pub**](http://www.thebrownpub.co.nz/), partly because it has a hotel attached to it and partly because right across the street is [**The Blue Pub**](http://www.thebluepub.co.nz/). The smile [**inspiration**](http://api.ning.com/files/0npqKWK8XJI-ZHil561Zy18PMwOYNDjAGNLPWXlL82ZOSxmhtpDWLtkMiaJqSDexRQZowjLLP1nKuKvpHBSQvZy4jglFmeha/SmileBeer.jpg) comes up because someone uses it as a userpic on a friends page on a NZ beer site. Otherwise it makes no sense at all.

Too many days of shared accommodations and single bunks, and Sean and Viggo were looking forward to a few nights of privacy. They checked in to the hotel the night before and had spent most of the day in their room with the "do not disturb" sign on the door. By early evening they emerged and headed downstairs for a bite to eat.

The Brown Pub was a good, old-fashioned country local with a few stray tourists mixed in: Sean and Viggo felt right at home. They sat watching the All Blacks game while nursing a couple of pints and two heaping plates of a traditional kiwi lamb roast with extra gravy and roast pumpkin.

It was hard to be heard at times over the rowdy sports crowd, but Viggo kept trying, determined to finish his point. By now Sean wasn't sure if he was talking about the global economy or global warming. Between the din and Viggo's rambling stream of conscience, he'd lost the thread of his argument a few minutes ago. But he loved listening to the cadence and pitch of Viggo's voice, enjoyed watching the passionate intensity in his eyes.

Viggo grabbed the two new glasses of beer that were placed in front of them to use as some kind of prop. He positioned them with his knife, the salt shaker and a bowl of peanuts along the bar. Finished, he looked up to catch Sean's eyes shift from a somewhat glassy expression to intense interest accompanied by a very studious nod. He laughed, grabbed one of the beers and drew a smiley face in the foam before handing it Sean.


	23. Fingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'fingers' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> [ **Lake Wakatipu**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Wakatipu) is a finger lake and my [**inspiration**](http://www.allposters.com/sp.asp?CID=4BCFBA6B57F34C27AB27500E5DBB2BFD&search=&c=c&apnum=3446878&startat=) picture is where I picture them sitting. But one can not have too many pictures of this lake so here are a [**couple**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Lake_Wakatipu_%26_Remarkable_Mountains.jpg) [**more**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Lake_Whakatipu_from_Queenstown.jpg).

The sun had only just started to spread across the lake, early morning quiet disrupted only by the chatter of birds. They'd come out on the pier for the sunrise, for the shift from murky depths to glittering riffs breaking the surface. The Remarkables loomed above the water, their dark shadows slowly lightening to the coming dawn.

They'd learned the lake had a rhythm, a seiche, a steady and barely perceptible standing wave. Viggo hoped to see it, to catch its pulse and record it in his memory. Sean wasn't sure it was possible, but he'd sit out here forever if Viggo were so inclined. He could feel Viggo's pulse through every pore of his skin; it filtered through his veins and washed away turbulence and agitation leaving nothing but contentment, serenity.


	24. Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'interview' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> I didn't try very hard to find a picture for this prompt. I knew it would be one of the most difficult ones to do. So I thought about what one of them could be interviewed for or, conversely, who one of them might want to interview. I settled on Viggo's affiliation with the American Wild Horse Preservation Campaign and found that New Zealand has [**wild horses**](http://img2.scoop.co.nz/stories/images/0805/f1f249f73671321090c7.jpeg) as well. They're called the [**Kaimanawa**](http://kaimanawa.homestead.com/) which means 'eat the wind:' "the brave must survive on their own resources even when food is scarce and the future is in doubt, the brave will 'eat the wind' and somehow, endure. (source: http://www.tribeequus.com/kaimanawa.html)

It was one of their few planned stops and, as Sean suspected would happen, had turned into an extended stay. On behalf of the wild horse preservation group he supported, Viggo planned to interview one of the women involved in saving the Kaimanawa wild horses. They'd been invited to observe them on the north island's central plateau and spent long hours spellbound by the animals' strength and beauty.

Sean knew about the annual muster before they arrived, knew it was always a struggle to find good homes for the horses deemed as "surplus" after the government's herd count. Before they'd even stepped off the plane he'd prepared his arguments against purchasing even one. Money wasn't his concern; they could afford as many horses as Viggo wanted. But Viggo liked to form a relationship with his animals, something he wouldn't have time to do. And he always regretted not being able to see Uraeus as often he liked, even though he was in the care of capable people. Sean was fairly confident he'd win any debate.

What he wasn't expecting was Viggo's sponsorship proposal; to cover the cost to feed and care for a few of the horses that might be slaughtered if a suitable home wasn't found. Sean couldn't help chuckling that Viggo found the one argument he hadn't prepared a counter for. So they discussed what a lifetime's worth of care might cost, spent a day crunching numbers and looking at budgets. They considered how easy it would be to find people with the desire, experience and space to adopt but not the funds to make the commitment. And they talked about how Viggo would react, how he'd feel, if they discovered one of their sponsored horses had not been cared for, their money wasted, and the animal had still been killed.

In the end, they reached a kind of compromise, just two placements but Viggo would get to have a role in the selection. They set up shop in Turangi for a few weeks, spent part of their days with the Trust volunteers reviewing applications and talking to prospective owners, took the time to catch up on calls and correspondence, to rest their boots before stepping out on the road once more.


	25. Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'tea' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> This is me unable to settle on just one [**picture**](http://www.newzealandtravelblog.co.nz/wp-content/gallery/brookview-tea-house-perfect-for-morning-tea-in-matakana/Berridge_DSC_00710001_Brookview%20Tea%20House,%20Matakana,%20Northland_Jan09.JPG) so I have [**three**](http://www.newzealandtravelblog.co.nz/wp-content/gallery/brookview-tea-house-perfect-for-morning-tea-in-matakana/Berridge_DSC_00750002_Brookview%20Tea%20House,%20Matakana,%20Northland_Jan09.JPG) to [**share**](http://www.newzealandtravelblog.co.nz/wp-content/gallery/brookview-tea-house-perfect-for-morning-tea-in-matakana/Berridge_DSC_00800003_Brookview%20Tea%20House,%20Matakana,%20Northland_Jan09.JPG), all of the [**Brookview Tea House**](http://www.brookviewteahouse.co.nz/).

Sean had been quiet, moody and distracted, for the last day. They'd each had their share of ill temper, so Viggo let him dwell in his head for a while, brood over whatever was troubling him.

As they passed the Brookview Tea House, Viggo mentioned he was hungry and Sean turned around and pulled in without a word. They sat out on the veranda and as Sean looked out at the gardens he began to visibly relax. Almost shyly he asked the server if guests were allowed to stroll through the grounds, and Viggo smiled at the extreme courtesy, at the unique contradiction and appeal of Sean's cocky humility.

They ordered and Sean left the table to look at the different beds of flowers and herbs, the shrubbery and trees that bordered each plot. When he returned his breathing had become less shallow and he seemed more present and alert as he tucked in to his ploughman's lunch with relish.

He might not yet be ready to talk; Viggo may have to wait until the evening or possibly tomorrow to find out what was on Sean's mind. But he'd found something to settle him here, and soon he'd be ready to let Viggo help him expel his worries.


	26. Sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'sword' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> To cross swords is to fight, so [**these**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?g=54&n=17755) [**four**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?t=21&n=17747) [**lovely**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?t=17&n=17771) [**pictures**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?t=15&n=17770) became my inspiration.

The day began simply enough. A morning out walking over the easier and flatter tracks in the park. No cameras, no destination, no agenda. Just enjoying the snow, the crisp chill in the air and each other.

Somehow they found themselves alone in a sea of white. No one else had chosen this particular path so once calm demeanors began to turn playful. And Viggo kept trying to make Sean recreate Frodo's fall in the snow. And Sean felt the need for some payback for the multitude of ambushes he'd endured over the years. Pushing, tugging, tripping, soon devolving into a full-blown, take-no-prisoners, snowball fight.

By the time they got back to the hotel they were still half covered in snow and frozen to the bone. They made a yeoman's effort to stifle their laughter, but failed before they reached the elevators.


	27. Shave / Fruit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'shave' and 'fruit' prompts. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> A synonym for shave is crop, hence a [**kiwi farm**](http://www.wineandfoodtube.com/files/blog/file/kiwi%20resize.jpg). :-) To get at least some of the details right, I borrowed quite liberally from [**this post**](http://www.travelblog.org/Oceania/New-Zealand/North-Island/Rotorua/blog-342129.html) written by someone who worked on a kiwi farm.

It was the organic kiwi farm of a friend of a friend of a friend, and they were volunteer field hands for the week. Sean had agreed to get in a helicopter and Viggo to getting their hands dirty, but while Sean merely endured the flight Viggo was enjoying their stay. The purity of acres of open farmland, the Bay of Plenty to one side, and Viggo couldn't remember why he initially balked at the idea.

There were livestock to tend and crops to be thinned, vegetable plots to weed and food to put up for the winter. Viggo gravitated toward the animals, letting the cows out to pasture and the sheep to graze among the kiwi arbors, nature's way to keep grasses well maintained. And he discovered Farmer Sean was even more attractive than Gardener Sean, wondered how he could ferret him out from time to time.

Each evening they'd stroll past the paddocks down toward the Bay, sit by the water and play with their pocketknives and bits of wood, pretend they knew how to whittle. They created various pieces of "modern art" before the light began to fade, then stretched out on the grass, tried to identify stars and constellations as the sky came to life above them.


	28. Spectacles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'spectacles' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> I had to stretch a bit for this one. A spectacle is something showy like a parade. There's a [**santa parade**](http://www.santaparade.co.nz/) in Auckland each November.

It had been a long day, filled with colorful floats, marching bands and the laughter of hundreds of children. After Karl's boys had been put to bed, they finished off a bottle of wine with him and his wife, encouraged Natalie to share juicy stories they could torment Karl with whenever the need arose.

Now alone in their room, neither of them could sleep. Despite taking special car to plan visits with their children throughout this trip, being surrounded by so many young people so early on the journey made them both wistful. Their thoughts kept returning to Evie, who would have loved the parade and playing with the boys. She was meant to fly down with her sisters after Christmas but now it seemed much too far away. They finally managed to appease themselves by writing her a letter filled with silly limericks, deciding to mail the gifts they'd bought her instead of waiting until she arrived.


	29. Uniform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'uniform' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> I've had to stretch from time to time, but in this one I'm practically doing a split. :-) Ferns are very uniform plants, thus tree ferns. Even though the [**inspiration picture**](http://www.treknature.com/gallery/photo30419.htm) was taken on the way to Pelorus Bridge, there are also tree ferns in the bush you walk through to get to [**Wairere Falls**](http://www.trampingtracks.co.nz/wairere-falls.html) and that's much more [**interesting**](http://www.davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?tx=&ts=&c=&g=70&Lids=&Gids=&p=10&n=7182&phrase=) to me. Here are [**three**](http://www.trampingtracks.co.nz/pics/wairere-falls-wak-11.jpg) [**pictures**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?g=70&n=7202) of the [**stairs**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?g=70&n=7191) and a picture of the [**falls**](http://www.digital-images.co.nz/gallery/tag/Waterfall?g2_itemId=748).

Even Viggo, lover of all challenges, looked up the wooden stairs with more than a little concern. They were steep, relatively narrow, and neither of them would want to be the ones stopping for a breather before they made it to the top.

Delaying the climb definitely held some appeal. After all, they reasoned, they hadn't stopped to take that many pictures along the way. The less used paths that snaked off from the main trail had scarcely been looked at, the tree ferns barely appreciated, their rich, uniform foliage like a canopy spread over their heads.

In the end a combination of pride and competitive coercion made them begin the ascent, both already thinking of excuses why tomorrow should be a "kick your feet up and watch the world go by" kind of day.


	30. Horn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'horn' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> There are a couple of [**inspiration**](http://www.eadon.co.nz/images/moniquemuir.jpg) [**pictures**](http://www.eadon.co.nz/images/morran.jpg) and the [**main site**](http://www.eadon.co.nz/cattle.htm) if you'd like to take a look.

It shouldn't have been so difficult to plan for the girls' visit but somehow they found themselves disagreeing about everything. Should they stay in a hotel, a bed and breakfast, rent a house? Would a hike be feasible, would they enjoy any of the exhibits at the local museum? Should they even stay in this area, is there enough here to interest them? The conversation went round in circles, growing more heated as the minutes passed. Sean caught himself just before the words "they're my children" could escape from his lips, instead stood and walked out onto the deck.

A couple of minutes of cooling off and Viggo suggested they drive around, see if anything struck them as they went. Half an hour later they pulled over next to a pasture, the field dotted with highland cattle. A few calves grazed next to their mothers, their horns not yet grown, their faces both cautious and curious of the strange men at the fence. Sean and Viggo imagined Lorna and Molly would enjoy a visit, but could vividly picture Evie's face as she stroked the long fur, maybe even get a chance to help feed them. They smiled at the thought and got back in the car, deciding which of them would take on the task of charming the owners into a private visit.


	31. Earring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'earring' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> The main [**inspiration**](http://www.kiwitreasure.com/bigimgs.asp?IDPRODUCT=660) picture and [**the page**](http://www.kiwitreasure.com/prodview.asp?idproduct=660) that has a little more info. The Pikorua (twist/infinity) represents the joining of cultures, the bonding of friendships and joining of loves for eternity according to NZ Maori fable. It symbolizes the strength and beauty of enduring friendship and interwoven lives and is inspired by the symbols of life and growth. The word piko is given to a new shoot, and rua is the number two. This shape depicts two new shoots growing together in life and friendship.

Viggo wished he'd been able to capture the look on Sean's face when he showed him the earrings he wanted them to buy, not for the girls or for a friend, but for each other. With the utmost in sincerity he put one of the dangling twist earrings next to Sean's face, oohed and aahed over how nice it looked. Feigned annoyance when Sean swatted his hand away and said he better be joking. Switched to his best wounded expression when Sean grew even more irritated and continued to refuse.

But he couldn't hide the love in his eyes when he described the meaning of the symbol and watched Sean's adamant resistance begin to crumble, the internal fight evident in his face. He smiled, briefly touched Sean's cheek then let the black leather cord he had scrunched in his palm loose. His bicep would be sore from Sean's punch for a while, but it was worth it to see the look in Sean's eyes, the complete acceptance and appreciation for turning the earrings into matching pendants, a symbol of their love and partnership.


	32. Tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'tongue' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> A tongue is "a narrow strip of land extending into a body of water; cape." So my [**inspiration**](http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cape_Farewell_Arch.jpg) picture is of [**Cape Farewell**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_Farewell,_New_Zealand).

Home seemed both achingly far away and intimately near. They stood overlooking the breaking surf, the rich green grasses of the cliff abruptly dropping off into layered gradients of sandstone, eroding and surging to form the sand spit to the east. So unlike anything they'd known yet utterly familiar and comfortable.

They had always felt these contradictions in New Zealand, perhaps more so while they were filming. Except then there had been no question they'd be leaving; final scenes shot, wrap parties held, temporary homes packed and planes boarded. Now, there were far more intriguing possibilities, an opportunity to rethink definitions of work and home, recapture time.

They stood overlooking the grand vista of the Tasman Sea, separately thinking concurrent thoughts, gauging their lives and imagining the promise of a vastly different future.


	33. Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'ocean' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Here are the two [**inspiration**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Ocean_Beach,_Northland,_New_Zealand.jpg) [**pictures**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Ocean_Beach,_Northland,_New_Zealand2.jpg) for this prompt. A little moment from early on in the journey.

Viggo wanted to walk on the beach, to follow the trail of some yet to be identified bird, to run aimlessly in and out of the surf. Too few demands, too few agendas; how do you just stop moving? He wanted to build sand castles, large expansive architectural wonders that would take hours if not days to fully realize. Too much time, too much freedom; what are you supposed to do with your hands?

He rambled through a constant stream of random thoughts, formulated theories about why _this_ beach would be singled out as "Ocean" Beach when so many others welcomed the same open waters. If he noticed Sean's silence he didn't acknowledge it, just continued his monologue as they wandered through the sand.

After continually working, the constant travel, Viggo felt absent, off track in the vast amounts of time now available to them. It was as if all the clocks stopped and he was almost giddy with restlessness.

He'd taken several steps before he realized Sean was no longer with him. He stopped talking, stopped moving, looked back and saw Sean sitting on the beach, still as a statue, gazing out at the horizon. Viggo sat down beside him, opened his mouth to speak but changed his mind. He looked from Sean to the water and back, picked up handfuls of sand and let it strain through his fingers.

Sean lay back on the beach, his hands carded behind his head. Without thinking Viggo began to bury him in the sand, piled and molded it around pale limbs and a slender torso, his movements slowing as he progressed, becoming deliberate, meditative. And Sean quietly watched and waited.


	34. Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'gold' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> I'm breaking my New Zealand all the time rule here but I have to preface by saying it's not entirely my fault. I searched for gold and New Zealand and this [**picture**](http://images-0.redbubble.net/img/art/size:large/view:main/1333139-7-dicky-gold.jpg) came up. And it was completely and totally awesome and I knew that I was going to use it in a second. Please look at [**another picture**](http://www.redbubble.com/people/melbrackstone/art/1051547-8-golden-dawn) in the series and notice the photographer's tags on the right: Seascapes, New Zealand. Then I clicked on the link for the [**whole series**](http://www.redbubble.com/people/melbrackstone/art/everything/tags/dicky) and fell in love with each of the pictures. It was only then that I looked up the S.S. Dicky and lo and behold the damn thing's in Australia. But I'm sorry, I couldn't ignore those pictures now. They're amazing. So, this is the one and only time that my inspiration picture isn't related to New Zealand at all. But I honestly don't think it's entirely my fault. *g*

Sean had played photographer's assistant before but never in such wet and cold conditions. Waiting for dawn and the rise and fall of the tide, more than six hours on the coast in early autumn, the air brisk and the water cold.

They had been running in and out of the sea as it ebbed and flowed, Viggo intent on capturing the remains from every possible angle and in every possible light. Now they huddled together waiting for another shift in the tide, the sky to brighten a little more, and tried to ignore the clammy cold of denim plastered to skin.

When he saw what he was waiting for, Viggo pulled Sean even closer and kissed him, smiled exuberantly and rushed back into the water. Hands almost numb, he concentrated on lining up his next shot while Sean grabbed different lenses, a new roll of film, and headed out into the waves once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like doing this. I've wanted to link directly to the photographer's work throughout this series out of respect for their art. But these pictures are too incredible to be lost. Between the time I found the initial picture and now, it's page has been taken down (although the direct link to the jpg is still up and hopefully will stay). And the series pictures now include shots that don't seem related to the S.S. Dicky at all. So, I frantically saved all the pictures I could and have uploaded them to [**photobucket**](http://s157.photobucket.com/albums/t68/FoxRafer/Sean%2050/Gold%20Series/). The copyright remains with Mel Brackstone but I'd like you to be able to see the whole set without some odd things thrown in, including two pictures that don't seem to be part of the set any more. Enjoy.


	35. Car / Steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'car' and 'steel' prompts. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Here's the inspiration [**picture**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnmontague/529276206/) and a link with more [**information**](http://www.taieri.co.nz/) about the train.

Uncomfortable was an understatement. Annoyed, awkward, strained, irritated bordering on angry; those came closer. They'd done a lot of typical touristy things since beginning this trip, but never felt out of place. Somehow they had managed to blend into the background, any noticeable attention so infrequent as to be nearly forgotten.

Perhaps it was because they were in an enclosed space, nearly cornered in their seats with a car full of people. More time to be recognized, for fans to work up the courage to approach them. They managed a few polite exchanges, brief words and a promise to sign autographs once the ride ended. But as luck would have it there were a few people who couldn't accept the compromise, who refused to understand that Viggo and Sean were here to enjoy the scenery, not to entertain.

They tried to wait until the first stop, made an effort to ignore or firmly deflect attention. But when a man neither of them knew continued to push, loudly and continually insisting he had worked with them both during filming, Sean finally snapped. Viggo stood so quickly he almost crashed into the blowhard, grabbed Sean's arm and practically drug him out of the car. He intended to play the celebrity card, find a conductor and ask to be allowed in some private area intended only for crew until they could disembark. If nothing else, he'd keep Sean moving, keep him from creating the kind of headlines they could live without.


	36. Bitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'bitter' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> People often say something is bitter or acerbic or stinging, so my inspiration pic features [**stinging nettles**](http://www.trampingtracks.co.nz/pics/3%20DSCF0027.jpg). Here's some more [**information**](http://www.trampingtracks.co.nz/white-pine-bush-reserve-walk-way.html) about the trail.

Viggo couldn't believe how much it burned. He'd been expecting a little discomfort, an incessant itching and possibly a rash. But this amount of pain surprised him. He'd heard that stinging nettles could numb the skin and wondered how long he'd have to wait. Numbness would be very welcome right about now.

Being annoyed at himself didn't help, either. They'd read the warnings and Sean had been in full-blown mother hen mode before they set out, insisting Viggo wear jeans instead of shorts, that he wore socks that covered more of his leg above the boots. Viggo had humored him and relished making fun of him the entire time. And then ten minutes into the hike had bent down to re-tie his laces and scraped his entire forearm against a batch of the biting stuff.

The only negative reaction had been a Bean glare until he'd stopped pretending he was fine and sat down on the other side of the path. Sean didn't wander into "I told you so" territory, he didn't laugh or tease. He simply grabbed Viggo's bandana and started poking around the nettles until he found some dock leaf then carefully rubbed it on Viggo's arm.

Viggo focused on the feel of Sean's hand around his wrist, the movement of his arm as he gently applied the dock leaf. His face was a mixture of concentration and concern and Viggo thought he was beautiful. When Nurse Bean finished, he gave Viggo one last look and a quiet tut, then kissed him on the forehead and helped him to his feet. His arm wasn't perfect, but it was definitely better. And although it had been painful, Viggo was going to enjoy being cared for by Sean over the next few days.


	37. Rifle(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'rifle(s)' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Lots of word association here. To rifle can mean to rummage or pillage. Pirates are pillagers. So ... [**Pirates Cove**](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8DfUOJtGfL8/SZ0Z4Ifhv2I/AAAAAAAABxA/qeUCGZuoLjc/s400/PiratesCoveGolf.jpg) is my inspiration (and a [**link**](http://www.adventuregolf.co.nz/) if you'd like to see more of this silly place).

It was cheesy and silly and quite possibly wouldn't be fun at all, but both Viggo and Sean were dying to go. It was something about it being pirate-themed and finding some ammunition for future elf teasing that made it appealing. That and neither had been on a miniature golf course in more years than they could remember and it seemed crazy to pass up the opportunity.

Now they found themselves lost in a fit of giggles, laughing at nothing in particular and grateful there weren't many people there. Sean tried to compose himself and line up his next shot, but the sight out of the corner of his eye of Viggo's shoulders shaking in silent laughter set him off once more. At this rate he imagined it would take them all day to finish the course, possibly to finish this hole.


	38. Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'green' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> I went looking for these pictures; no chance discovery here. To me the only choice was [**The Green Parrot**](http://www.greenparrot.co.nz/). A picture from [**outside**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/cphile/3426936028/), a picture of [**Sean**](http://i144.photobucket.com/albums/r169/OMCSIC/Storage%20Web/Lord%20of%20the%20Rings/greenparrot.jpg) inside (thanks to and [**The Mighty Bean**](http://themightybean.com/)) and a shot of [**Viggo**](http://i157.photobucket.com/albums/t68/FoxRafer/Sean%2050/viggogreen.jpg) inside.

It was the first place they'd gone when they arrived, and would likely be their preferred spot for dinner every night they were in Wellington; the site of countless conversations and good laughs with great friends. The Green Parrot had been almost a refuge, a home away from home at the end of long, tiring days. And for Sean and Viggo it had been where new feelings had been nurtured, an intimate witness to the first smoldering embers of love.

To the casual observer, there was nothing extraordinary about the two men. The locals were pleased to see the return of two of their adopted sons, were happy to give them their privacy, room to reminisce. But for Viggo and Sean the evening was anything but ordinary. Everything around them brought memories to flood their senses, took them back to tentative confessions and the building of a deeper trust, certain desire and the surety of a profound connection far greater than any they had experienced before.


	39. Witch(es)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'witch(es)' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> Willow trees are associated with witches, so here is my [**inspiration**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?t=27&n=14526) picture and a little more [**information**](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maniototo) about the area.

It was nice to be back without the landscape marred by trucks and tents and the rushing of people. Nice but also strange. Sean had been in England when Viggo was shooting here, his first trip back since they'd begun to express deeper feelings. The open plains surrounded by mountains brought all the uncertainty and loneliness back into Viggo's mind.

The scenery didn't trigger those memories for Sean; Boromir was never in Rohan during the film. But he could remember those weeks just as vividly: the constant distraction, the fear that it had all been ephemeral and fleeting, the insistent hint of jealousy. Even with so many years between them and those moments, the need for reassurance was strong, a desire for the reality of touch.

It didn't seem cold enough for the giant willow to be covered in frost; it cast an otherwordly veil on the land, sent chills through them. Nevertheless, they sat on the other side of the pond, across from the unearthly limbs of the tree, arms and hands holding them tightly to the present as they spoke in muted tones about the past. Not wresting demons but rather acknowledging the distance safely traveled, refueling for the road still to come.


	40. Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'garden' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> This was what I chose for my [**inspiration**](http://www.worldisround.com/articles/345014/photo45.html) photo. Here's some more information about the gardens from the [**Larnach Castle**](http://www.larnachcastle.co.nz/page.pasp?pageid=18) site and [**another**](http://www.gardenvisit.com/garden/larnach_castle_garden) that focuses solely on the gardens.

The only thing Sean regretted was not being able to see the gardens in every season. The variety of plants, the different colors, the grounds completely transformed with each passing month.

Slowly they walked down to a gazebo overlooking Otago Harbour, stopping every few minutes to admire the lush selection of plantings on either side. Viggo knew he'd be taking pictures for both of them, as Sean inevitably pulled out the brochure and a notebook to make notes of the flora, draw a brief sketch and some thoughts on whether it could be grown in England or Idaho.

Viggo joined in the speculation only occasionally, content to watch Sean studious and enthusiastic. He wanted to see the view at the end of the path, but the sight before him was far more enchanting.


	41. Tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'tight' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> I chose to use tight as in cramped space. My inspiration [**picture**](http://www.new-zealand-pictures.co.nz/kaikoura-coast-nins-bin-south-island-nz-1603-pictures.htm) and a brief [**review**](http://www.lostateminor.com/2009/02/12/nins-bin-kaikoura-new-zealand/) of Nin's Bin.

It was as small as they remembered and the crayfish just as good. Sala had introduced them to this place, and ever since it had become a Fellowship favorite. Whenever they had time and the energy for the trip, various groups of cast and crew would take the long drive across Cook Strait and down the coast to Kaikoura.

Today the weather was just cold enough to make eating outside a little uncomfortable. Nevertheless, they took their order out onto the rocks, the hot food sending tendrils of steam into the cool air. It was messy and delicious, the ocean breeze misting their faces, mixing with the buttery juice.

It was hard not to reminisce being here. They'd never managed a real reunion, everyone scattered across the globe, busy with work and families. Sitting here in a spot so connected to the films, to the friends they'd made, Sean and Viggo began to think through possibilities, how to make a long held desire a reality.


	42. Football

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'football' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> This was a hard one. Every picture was of a football player (or a rugby player which was odd). But thanks to David Wall I found [**some**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?t=119&n=21518) [**inspiration**](http://davidwallphoto.com/searchresults.asp?g=52&n=21515) after all.

Sean suspected they recognized Aragorn beneath the graying shaggy mop of hair and all too ordinary jeans and sweatshirt. No parents could be so trusting to let their children play with two strangers completely unsupervised, two men who just wandered up the beach and happened upon the scene. Regardless he was happy with the outcome, both of them needing a little aimless play to chase away serious thoughts.

The sun was starting to set and the tide to come in before they finally abandoned the game to younger legs and youthful energy. They sat up on a small grassy knoll several yards away and watched as the sea became a more forceful player, almost bettering the determination of children at play.


	43. Daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge; 'Daddy' prompt. Prompt table and general notes about what in the world I'm doing can be found [**here**](http://foxyfics.livejournal.com/39923.html).
> 
> So this is it. The end of the road. While I said in the beginning that these could be read in any order, it turns out I lied. Everything can be read in any order you like, but this one must be read last. It's the end of this journey and the beginning of a new one.
> 
> This is the first [**picture**](http://www.waymarking.com/waymarks/WM4W4Z) I found, and here's another [**sculpture**](http://www.waymarking.com/waymarks/WM4W4T) in that area. More of the sculptures can be found on [**Flickr**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/differentperspective/tags/happyvalley/). All of hese are part of [**Carlucciland**](http://www.carlucciland.co.nz/carlucciland.htm); and a few more Carlucci pictures are [**here**](http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=carlucciland&w=all&s=int&referer_searched=1). Finally, the [**pictures**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/domino_nz/249656892/in/set-72157594242426521/) that truly [**inspired**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/domino_nz/249656853/) this piece, a serendipitous [**discovery**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/differentperspective/132826548/) that about sent me into the stratosphere. :-) (There are a bunch more in the [**Dereliction**](http://www.flickr.com/photos/differentperspective/sets/72057594113747266/) photostream.)

It was almost over, this journey of more than a thousand miles. They'd traveled across the fresh and the familiar, spent time with friends both new and old. More than a year away from what had been their lives and still they wanted more. Yes, they loved working, but not nearly as much as they loved one another. And here it had been like stopping time, putting it on hold to make room for what was truly important. As the trip came to a close, Sean and Viggo both wondered and dreamed of how to reverse the equation, to sacrifice work for time with each other, for time **for** each other. Not to stop time but capture it, to use it to their benefit. Hadn't they earned that right?

But despite all the trust and faith in the world, neither could find a way to broach the subject. It was a big decision, a big change. And maybe they had succeeded all these years because of the extended time apart, the commitments that now felt like boulders around their necks. They drove quietly through Wellington, both lost in thought, wondering if this discussion was best had here, half a world away from the life they had constructed together, or if New Zealand itself was influencing them too much, seducing them into wanting to throw so many things away.

Sean noticed what looked like a large daddy long legs along the side of the road. Too curious not to investigate, Viggo found a place to pull over and they walked back to the metal sculpture. Several other pieces dotted the hillside, and intrigued they began to follow them wondering why they were here and who could have built them.

At the corner they thought they saw the beginning of an answer to the puzzle, but before they could explore it further they spied an abandoned house through a stand of trees across the way. Something about the building charmed them, enticed them to see more. It was rough going crossing the overgrown field that surrounded it, but the closer they got to its broken frame and sagging foundation the more electricity seemed to fill the air, the faster their hearts began to beat. They walked around the home in silence, taking in all of its neglected beauty. Then they stopped and looked at each other, and the words began to flow.

Neither knew how long they stood there, debating, arguing, weighing sensible choices against passionate dreams. They took turns playing devil's advocate, attempted to talk down one vision after another. They played out worst case scenarios in their heads and found themselves loving even the most pessimistic outcomes. Whether the house could be saved, whether they'd ever work again, in the end none of it mattered. This is where they wanted to be; New Zealand was where they wanted to begin the next half of their lives. This was where they could capture time and use it to their advantage. A place for their children to escape the rush of their lives, a place for their friends to come together once more, a place to grow old while overlooking the splendid green hills and abundant mountains of this country, the land that conceived their love.

 _In the summer we'll sit in a field and watch the sun melt  
In the winter we'll sit by a fire and watch the moon freeze  
\-- Michelle Shocked_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to [**govi20**](http://govi20.livejournal.com/) and [**mooms**](http://mooms.livejournal.com/) for organizing the [**seans_50**](http://seans_50.livejournal.com/) challenge. And a huge thank you to [**stormatdusk**](http://stormatdusk.livejournal.com/), not just for being a great beta but for all the incredible encouragement and handholding along the way. This has been such a fun experience. I hope you enjoyed the pictures and ficlets as much as I enjoyed finding and writing them.


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